


Teaching

by JayceCarter



Series: Kinktober 2018 [21]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, First Time, Kinktober 2018, Mutual Pining, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 18:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16352279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: During a game of truth or dare, Nora admits she's never enjoyed sex. Hancock wants to show her what she's been missing.Can either of them stay just friends after that, or will their feelings get in the way?





	Teaching

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 21: toys
> 
> I cheated and did a different day. lol.

 

Hancock laughed at how the vaultie wavered on the bed beside him. Girl had drunk some, taken some chems with him, and they’d ended up in his room in the Statehouse.

Fuck, he loved that girl.

How the hell it had happened, he didn’t know. Seemed like she’d shown up one day and fuck, he was in love. Maybe it was that smile she had or the way her suit showed off her tits, or maybe it was the way she handled an assault rifle, but whatever it was? Fucking love.

Not that she felt the same.

She was a widow, and he got the sense her marriage may not have been the best. Whenever the topic got brought up, she’d shut that shit down. Her lips would press together, her gaze darting down, shoulders curling in. Not fear just. . . unhappiness.

So he took her like he could get her, which was a buddy most of the time. He’d die happy with her as a friend; fuck knew he’d never deserved even that much from her. Nora was the sort of person you heard stories about. Decades from then Kent was gonna be talking about the vaultie who had changed the world and John? Well, he’d just been damn lucky to have been there at all.

“Truth.” Her legs folded in front of her, both of them sitting on top of the covers on his huge bed.

His lips curved into a grin. “Kinkiest thing you’ve ever done, sister.”

Her cheeks lit up, and fuck if that wasn’t damn pretty. “Pass.”

“Can’t pass. I didn’t make the rules, but this being a law-abiding town, and me being the mayor, I’m gonna have to insist you follow ‘em.”

“Law-abiding, right.” She snorted, an honest to fuck snort, before she slapped a hand over her mouth as if she could take back the absurd noise.

“Answer the question, and I won’t tell people you snort.”

She lowered her hand, a half-assed glare on her face. “Fine, but the joke’s on you. I’m not into kink.”

“Everyone is into kink. If they say they ain’t, they’re either lying, or they don’t know any better.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“You ain’t a liar, and that means you just don’t know any better. Fucking sad, that is.”

The flush on her cheeks might have been from annoyance, embarrassment, or the liquor. He didn’t care what caused it, he just liked the way it played with the freckles there.

“I know plenty, thank you very much. It’s not like I’m a virgin.”

“You got a kid, course you’re not a virgin.” He chuckled as he stretched his legs out to ease the tightness in his thighs from sitting there. “Met a few ghouls from your day. All proper prudes who’d fucking faint at the idea of a few good kinks. All caught up in the whole ‘ain’t supposed to have sex’ bullshit.”

“I’m not against sex. I just don’t like it.”

Fucking pity, that was. He got that some people just weren’t into sex, didn’t like it. He didn’t push that shit, but finding out there wasn’t ever a chance of it disappointed him. “Just ain’t into sex, sunshine? Yeah, some folks are like that, just ain’t on their menu.”

She shifted on the bed, her fingers tracing the patterns on the bedspread. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

Her sigh was soft. “I just wish I understood the fuss. Seems like something everyone else loves, and I don’t get it.”

The longing in her voice had his head tilting. “Ya know, there’s ‘ain’t interested sex,’ and there’s ‘ain’t never had good sex.’ Two different things.”

“I’ve had sex, John, I know exactly what it’s like. It’s fast and not very pleasant, okay?” The words came out sharp, and if John didn’t know damn well she was yelling more at herself, he might have been annoyed by ‘em.

Instead, he kept himself still, studying her: Shoulders tight, back slumped, gaze down. She wasn’t mad at him; Nah, she was pissed at herself.

He ventured a slow guess. “Not pleasant? I know you and your husband weren’t all lovey-dovey, but he didn’t ever-”

She shut down his obvious question by shaking her head. “No, nothing like that. I’m serious, John, I just don’t enjoy it. We had sex plenty of times, and it just wasn’t ever good.”

“He your first?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, sister, tell me about it.”

She sighed and shook her head. “It was always the same. Uncomfortable, quick, unsatisfying. He’d roll over and go to sleep, and I was just laying there awake. I guess I just got old enough to realize it wasn’t worth it.”

Well fuck.

“Well, shitty sex sucks, but just because some ham-handed fucker didn’t know how to get you off doesn’t mean you should swear off the whole thing if it’s something you want. I mean, all you gotta do is find someone who’ll listen, someone you can teach what you want.”

And the blush on her cheeks returned, brighter than before. “That won’t work.”

“Why not? Some men are pretty good students.”

“I’ve never been able to on my own either.”

Both brows lifted to the edge of his hat, and his breath just rushed out of his lungs. Sure, the idea that she’d had some idiot in bed, that he got. But the fact she’d never even gotten herself off? Well, fuck if that wasn’t a challenge he wanted to take up.

“You’re telling me you ain’t never-” He shut his mouth before he said something too crude and softened the question. “Ain’t never taken care of yourself? Ain’t never gotten off at all?”

She shook her head. “No. I think. . .”

“Think what?”

“Something’s wrong with me. It’s what Nate said, that I was just broken. I mean, that happens. People are broken in all sorts of ways, why not that?” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug that hid a lot of fucking pain, pain pushed down so deep he wasn’t sure she even saw it all.

Too bad he couldn’t punch that stupid fucking husband of his for putting that in her head. Guess it was easier to blame her than admit he was an idiot who couldn’t find a girl’s clit with a pipboy and a flashlight.

John reached out and caught Nora’s hand. “You ain’t broken, sunshine.”

“Easy for you to say.”

He tugged her closer until she leaned her back against the wall beside him, his arm over her shoulders. “Look, we men have egos bigger than our cocks, okay? My guess is that stupid fucker liked the idea of you broken more than he liked the idea that he just wasn’t any good. Don’t let his bullshit live in your head. You ain’t interested in any of it? Fine. But if you are, don’t let him take it from you.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, wanting to say so much more.

He wanted to fucking promise he could get her off, to use all that fucking experience he had for her, to watch her come apart beneath his touch. Wasn’t fair, though. He wouldn’t force her into shit, wouldn’t risk what they had.

“I want to.” Her voice had dropped low, almost a whisper. “I just. . . I don’t think I could go through that again, feeling used and broken. I don’t want someone else looking at me the way he did each time. How could I even start a relationship with someone if I don't think I even would want to have sex with them. How would that be fair?”

John forced his hand to release the fist he’d drawn it into. “You ain’t stupid. Pick someone worth anything and that ain’t gonna happen.”

She said nothing at first, the silence thick. Finally, tilted her head but didn’t raise her gaze to his. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

She ran her fingers over her thigh as she had the blanket, like the tiny mindless motions made it easier to talk. “Obviously you know what you’re doing. Maybe you could. . .”

When she didn’t say anything else, John pushed. “Could what?”

“Nevermind.”

“Uh-huh, sister. You ain’t scared about anything else in your life, don’t start here. You asking me to help you?”

“You don’t have to.”

Like John would say no. Was she fucking crazy? He tried to pull in the excitement, to not show it. “Didn’t say no. Just want you to think about it, to decide what you want. You and I? We’re friends, and that ain’t something I’ve had much of. Don’t want to fuck it up.”

She took her lip between her teeth, then nodded. “It doesn’t have to mean anything else. I mean, I’m a better shot than you, so if you wanted to work on your sniping, you’d come to me, right?”

He chuckled at the comparison. Still, if she wanted to try it, who was he to turn her down? Hell, after that husband of hers, girl was on shaky ground with the whole thing. If John told her no, she might just crawl into a hole and never come out. “Sleep off the whiskey, and we’ll see how you feel tomorrow.”

Nora turned and finally looked at him, uncertainty across her face, but damn if he didn’t want to pull her in and kiss her right then. “Can I sleep here?”

“Yeah, sunshine, course.”

 

#

 

John woke to hands running over his chest. Well fuck, wouldn’t be the first time some conquest of his crawled into his bed for some fun and John wasn’t the sort of kick anyone out.

He groaned, but the moment the sound left his lips, the hands stopped. He cracked his eyes open to find the minx who was teasing him, expecting to find a sly grin from a girl he’d fucking roll over and mount.

Instead, he met the face of Nora.

Fuck.

The night before came back to him, light peeking in from the window to show him the face of the woman he never thought would be in his bed.

“What if I still don’t like it?” She whispered to him like the dim room could be shattered by a loud voice.

John forced his brain to catch up despite the hangover. “Then you don’t like it. Not a big deal, and you won’t know if you don’t try.”

“You won’t be angry?”

He wanted to lean in, to brush his lips against hers like some apology for that asshole she’d been married to, the one who had carved up all her confidence. He fucking wanted to rebuild that shit, to help her realize she didn’t have shit to worry about. None of that was welcome, though. She’d made it clear; she wanted him to help her have an orgasm, not anything more. He’d do what she needed, not what he needed. “Nah, sunshine. Won’t be mad at all. This? This is just us trying this out, seeing what you like.” He forced himself to keep talking, to say shit he should say but didn’t want to. “After this, you’ll have a better idea. Find yourself a guy, and you’ll be able to say what you want, what you don’t. You deserve that, ya know?”

Even suggested she find someone else felt like a knife to the gut, but he’d been pretty clear. She didn’t see him as relationship material.

Nora nodded. “Okay. I want to try this, please?”

John sat up, moving slow, not wanting to spook her. Fuck, her eyes were wide, like she’d downed a bunch of psycho. “Okay. You tell me if you don’t like something, yeah?”

“Aren’t you supposed to know that?” The lift of her eyebrow showed some of her spark.

He huffed a laugh out. “I ain’t a mind-reader. I got a pretty good idea what works, but no two people are the same. Sex ain’t a one-sided thing, it ain’t one person getting off, it’s two people figuring shit out. It’s always gonna be better if you both participate. In this case, it means you’re gonna talk to me, sister, and you’re gonna tell me what you’re thinking. We clear?”

Nora sat up, a quick jerk of her head to agree before she grasped her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. She did it like yanking off a band-aid. Funny thing was, he’d see her in less before. They’d crawled through enough disgusting shit that bathing had had to happen. Still, those times had been requirements, they’d been moments while their clothes dried, nothing else. This? This was on purpose.

She didn’t wear a bra, didn’t bind her breasts, didn’t need to since she wasn’t all that curvy. It meant when she removed the shirt, he got a full view. Pale skin with freckles over her chest, breasts tipped with dark pink nipples. Fucking looked like berries, and he wanted nothing more than to taste ‘em.

She didn’t slow down at all like her nerves might fail and shimmied out of her pajama pants and underwear. Still, those thighs locked closed, not even giving him a glimpse of heaven.

That was fine. He could wait.

“Aren’t you going to get naked?” She nodded toward the underwear he still wore from sleeping.

“Nah. This is about you, not me. Ain’t any reason I should take anything off.”

“What if you want to have sex?” She stumbled over the last word, less forward than the night before, but then again, she’d sobered up.

“Again, ain’t about what I want. If you want that? Well, these can come off, but until then? Until you ask me for that? Let’s just keep ‘em on. Now, stop worrying and lie back, sunshine.”

Her lying back, that was the shit he’d get high to see, the shit he wanted burnt into his memory. Something about it, the trust there, the fact she was scared shitless but still doing it, it had him thankful for the underwear. Not that they’d hide much of anything since that sight had already gotten him going, but he’d just keep his fucking cock away from her and away from getting any ideas of its own.

John moved beside her, resting his weight on his knees, careful not to crowd her. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead, he dragged a single finger down, over the front of her throat, to her collarbone, and over a breast. He traced her nipple before sliding two fingers over it, rewarded with it hardening.

So responsive. Yeah, he’d been pretty sure she wasn’t someone who didn’t care for sex, not with the way she’d talked about it. This was going to be a lot of fucking fun.

He repeated the touch with his other hand, keeping the strokes gentle, working over her breasts. He cupped his hands beneath them, tested the weight, watched her for a reaction.

Her eyes slid closed, teeth working that bottom lip too hard, she was gonna chew it ragged. Still, at least it kept him from kissing her.

He busied his mouth by lowering it to the first breasts, offering kisses around the edge, along the lower curve, fingers still working the nipples.

Her hips lifted, thighs not quite so tight together anymore.

Her skin gave beneath his lips, and when he captured one of those berry colored nipples between them, he swore he coulda’ died a happy man. He lavished attention on that nipple, using his tongue to stroke against it, even risking a scrape of his teeth here and there while his other hand slid down her stomach.

When he reached the place where her thighs still closed, he ran along the seam. It wasn’t a demand; it was a question. It was a fucking knock on the door.

Nora answered by opening her legs, a slow spread that was better than any fucking open door. He pressed a kiss to the center of her chest as a thank you before dancing his fingers up her cunt in a testing, teasing stroke.

Wet. Hot. Fuck, he was regretting the whole underwear thing.

He took her other nipple between his lips, then released it with a noisy pop, a grin on his lips.

She opened her eyes but didn’t smile back, but fuck it. That confused lust was better than a smile.

“How ya doing, sunshine? Still think sex ain’t for you?”

She shook her head, and he took that as a win. He shifted down the bed, spreading her thighs wider so he could sit between em, giving him his first good look at her. His thumbs ran up the length of her slit, dipping in, memorizing her.

“Fucking pretty,” he muttered before he could think better of it. Course, when her cunt twitched against him, he realized, she liked his voice. He could use that. “I bet you coulda’ gotten yourself off anytime you wanted, sunshine. Wonder what it was that kept ya from getting there on your own?” One thumb moved up until he rubbed against her clit, her hips lifting in a startled jerk. “Easy there. I’ll lighten up, okay?” He moved to the top of her clit, leaving the hood in place, going softer.

He loved this game, the discovery. John liked a good challenge, and Nora was sure as fuck giving him one. She settled under the new touch. Get her a little more turned on, a little wetter, and he could go harder.

“You okay with me putting my fingers in you, sunshine?”

She nodded.

John pressed his middle finger into her, the softness of her cunt tempting his control. She was so wet he could pull his underwear out of the way and fill her in a single thrust. Fuck, he’d bet anything that he’d have her coming on his cock fast.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. Instead, he withdrew his finger and pressed two into her, needing to feel like he was taking her somehow. If now with his cock, he’d at least stretch her cunt around his fingers.

Nora ate the attention up. Her breasts shifted as she arched her back, as her hips lifted and fell. Ah, the mindless movement of a woman close to the edge, and she was close. Why the fuck was she close so fast when it hadn’t ever happened before?

He curled his fingers inside of her, teasing her, his other thumb working over her clit, offering harder strokes to coax her toward a release.

Still, she moved on the bed. She writhed, she gasped, she shut her eyes tight and fisted her hands in the blankets, but she just wouldn’t come.

Light caught on wetness on her cheeks, and she used a foot to push his hands away. Her thighs snapped shut, and she sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees, curling in on herself. “I told you this was stupid.”

John reached out and slid a hand into her head, his forehead pressing against hers. Still not a kiss, right? This was probably traipsing all over lines, but fuck it all. “You ain’t broken. You’re just afraid. Afraid of fucking letting go? Afraid of it not working? Afraid of losing control?”

She wrapped a hand around his wrist, nails digging in while she clung to him. “I shouldn’t have started this, shouldn’t have asked you-”

He pulled back before he shut her up with a kiss she didn’t want. “I ain’t giving up yet, sunshine, and you fucking outlast me everywhere else. Don’t tell me you’re quitting on me.”

Her brows pulled together. “I thought. . .”

“That I’d give up so fast? Fuck, that husband of yours was useless, wasn’t he? Nah, see, you just need to have something that’s gonna not let you think, not let your brain get in the way.”

Her gaze dropped to his lips. Fuck. He wanted to do that, wanted to push her back, latch his lips around her clit and drive her crazy until she was fucking screaming his name.

But. . . that was too personal. Wasn’t sure he could let her go after that.

“Nah, not that. Got a better idea.” He let go of her and leaned to the side, grabbing the large black duffle bag beside the bed. He yanked the zipper down, the sides gaping open to reveal what rested inside.

Nora’s sharp inhale would have been fun to play with any other day.

“Don’t look so worried, ain’t about to use most of this on you. You ain’t quite ready for this level of debauchery.” But fuck, he wished she was. “Consider these the tools of my trade. Gotta have the right tool for the right job. Where the fuck is it?” He started pulling items out, setting them on the bed.

Nora’s eyes went wider as she stared. Paddle. Cuffs. Clamps. Dildos. Butt plugs.

“There we go.” He reached what he wanted, then set it on the bed while he repacked the rest of the things.

She didn’t seem to breathe the shit was all safely tucked away. “What’s that?”

John held up the small silver vibrator. He took her hand and held it against it before pressing the button to turn it on.

When it whirred to life, Nora yanked back.

“Lie back again, sunshine. I swear, when I get this on you, you won’t be able to remember you fucking name let alone whatever bullshit is going on in your head. That okay?”

Took her longer to lie back than the last time, but when she did, when she spread those thighs, he was rewarded with the light catching on the wetness still on her cunt.

John used one hand to spread her wider, to give him total access to her clit, then lightly touched the vibrator to her clit.

The reaction was like a fucking gunshot. Her hips lifted, a gasp that turned into a moan on her lips.

“Told ya.” He chuckled as he kept at it, moving the vibrator around her clit, watching for the reactions. When he went too far left, she’d angle those hips for more. When he went too hard, she’d jerk back. How the hell had she thought she wasn’t into this? Girl was a fucking dream, desperate and honest and fucking beautiful.

She got back to that edge, eyes shut, creases in her forehead. So close. He needed her to come but he had to admit, her on that edge was a sight. How long could he keep her there? After an hour or two of that, he’d bet the skin on her chest would be flushed red, sweat matting her hair, eyes hazy.

Wasn’t time for that shit, though.

“Trust me, sunshine,” he whispered just above the whir of the vibrator. “Let go and just fucking trust me, huh?”

She came like his voice had done it, like that rasping of his had been the thing missing. Maybe he just liked the idea of that. Even without his fingers inside her, he could fucking see the way her cunt twitched, the way it tightened around nothing. She twisted on the bed, lifting off of it, short gasping moans filling the space as she rode out the waves.

He took the vibrator, hit the button, then tossed it on to the bed beside them. While she came down from her own little high, he busied himself with stroking his fingers over her cunt, avoiding her clit. Selfish, probably. He’d done his job, didn't need to be touching her like that, but he couldn’t help it.

It took a while before she really eased, though a shiver through her said she wasn’t quite back to normal.

When her eyes opened, when she looked at him, she cracked a smile that about carved his heart out. “Thanks,” she whispered.

John pulled his fingers from her, reluctant to let her go. He squeezed her thigh instead. “Told ya you could do it. What did you think?”

Nora pushed herself to sitting. She didn’t close her legs, didn’t try to hide, though a tremble and a gasp said the action had rubbed her over-sensitive clit against the blanket. “You were right. I. . .” Her gaze dropped. “It was good.”

“Good.” He nodded, looking the other way, unable to shake the discomfort. “Glad I could help.”

“Yeah.” This time her voice came out quiet. Guarded?

John was too afraid to look at her, to see whatever was on her face. Fuck, this had been stupid. How’d he think he could really do this and not care? How’d he think he could get his lips on her, get his fingers on her, piss all over those friendship lines they’d made and just walk back over the line like nothing happened? How the fuck was he gonna look at her again? How the fuck was he gonna fall asleep around her and not think of this?

How the fuck was he gonna let some other asshole touch her and not carve the fucker up?

“Look, John-”

Ah, there it was, the rejection. She was gonna remind him that this was nothing. She was gonna call him out for the shit on his face he couldn’t hide. John needed a minute to shove it all down again, a few gulps of whiskey, some med-x, then he’d build up those walls he’d torn down for a taste of her.  

“-I’m, uh, I’m gonna go have a smoke.” John fled. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for shit. Five minutes, that’s what he needed. Five minutes to smoke, to collect himself. Five minutes and he’d go back, he’d be ready to face her, to paint on his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ face.

Except, after five minutes, when he got back, Nora wasn’t in his bed. Her shit was gone.

Nora had run.

 

#

 

Took John two fucking weeks to find his wayward vaultie. He’d thought about staying put, about waiting for her to come back until he remembered who he was dealing with.

Nora could hold one hell of a grudge.

Besides, he’d fucked up. Nora, who had been so sure she was broken, so afraid that there was something wrong with her, had gotten left right after trusting him. When she’d tried to talk to him, the very fucking thing he’d been telling her to do all night, he’d shut her down and run off like a coward.

Sure, he was gonna come right back, but how could he have been so stupid? Course Nora ran. He couldn’t really blame her.

All the anger, the anger at him, the anger at her, it all drifted away when he finally laid eyes on her.

Nora leaned over the counter in the house she had in Sanctuary, elbows on the top, head in her hands. Poor girl looked miserable.

And it was all his fault.

John pushed away his frustration. “Hey there, sunshine.”

Nora spun to face him, eyes wide. Still, even with what had happened, the moment she recognized him that face softened.

And then it snapped shut like a fucking deathclaw jaw.

Guess that said he’d really fucked up, didn’t it?

“What are you doing here, Hancock?”

Ouch, Hancock.

“You ran out on me. Don’t you know running is my job?”

Not a smile. Fuck, her eyes were even sunken in, dark circles beneath ‘em. “I didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“What?”

“You ran out of the room so fast, it was pretty clear you were worried I’d misunderstood, or maybe you realized it was a stupid thing to do. I know we’re friends, that you want to be friends, and I should have never asked you to do that.” She rambled, and he’d missed her voice so much, he almost missed the words as he let her talk. “It wasn’t fair. I guess I wanted it so much, I ignored how uncomfortable you were, but I saw it. After we finished, or, well, I guess after _I_ finished-” she flinched “-You made it pretty clear you regretted it. I told you before I couldn’t take another person looking at me like I’d failed them, like I was broken. I didn’t want to see that on your face most of all, so I figured I’d go first.”

It took a minute for the words to sink in, to realize what she’d said.

He had options. Could let her take the blame for that shit. She had a soft heart at the end of the day, and she’d forgive him. They could go back to the way they were, back to who they’d been somehow, and they’d both be safe. He didn't have to risk anything, to tell her what he really thought, how he really felt. 

Or he could have the courage he’d asked her to have.

John shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and studied his boot kicking against the floorboards. Easier than looking at her. “I didn’t run off cause I regretted it. I ran off because I wanted more, and I knew you fucking didn’t. I ran off so I could wipe that look off my face, to get a hold of myself so I didn’t grab you and fucking kiss you like I’d wanted to do the whole time.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Fuck, like I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you.”

She said nothing. Fuck. Stupid. Should have said nothing, should have let sleeping dogs lie or whatever the fuck they say.

“Look, I’m sorry I said-”

Nora’s lips touched his. She’d crossed the room in a rush, her arms slipping behind his neck, the kiss much like everything else she’d done. Hesitant and fucking perfect. She pulled herself as close to him as she could get, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, the kiss he’d dreamed about for way too fucking long, the one he’d never figured in a million years he’d get.

When she broke the kiss, cheeks flushed, she didn’t look away. Didn’t hide. Nah, she kept her arms around him, her face so close he could have kissed each of the freckles on her cheeks. “Before you ran out, I was about to tell you I didn’t think I could keep things as just friends.” She offered another short, sweet kiss. “I was also about to tell you to take your underwear off.”

John chuckled before he pulled her tighter against him, feeling like he was in the best fucking jet hallucination he could have come up with. “Guess that teaches me to interrupt you, don’t it?”

She took that lip between her teeth again and smiled. “What do you think about taking me to bed and seeing what else you can teach me?”

John rested his forehead against hers, stupid grin on his face. “Well, I think that’s a pretty fucking good plan, sunshine.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
